


Through the Jungle

by Damceon



Series: Character Backstories [5]
Category: Gamer Fiction
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-22
Updated: 2020-03-22
Packaged: 2021-02-28 23:56:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,891
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23255806
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Damceon/pseuds/Damceon
Summary: Campaign: "Serpent's Skull"... and interlude sometime after a party-member was killed during a wyvern attack.Party Members:Durvag, a bear-wrestler of the North, slain during the journey.Nadia, a witch from the North running toward fate.Ruva, a glaive-wielding mercenary of glory.Lana, a ranger and hunter of peerless skill.Sand, an awakened war-dog.
Series: Character Backstories [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1672036





	Through the Jungle

“I knew.” Was Aerys’ reply when Nadia told her of Durvag’s death. “When we found the pyre’s remains, I knew.”

The half-elf’s eyes misted with tears that would not be wept that day or any time when others would see. The pallor of her face told Nadia enough. She’d seen that look on Sasha’s face plainly enough the morning after the Wyverns attacked.

“Bitter hold the Northern Ice,

Where locked away the hearth and home,

Come South a Man with Wild Eyes,

And feared naught of a world unknown.

When Jeneveire came to Rest o’ the Rocks,

T’was Northman and Lady Fox that steered free her Souls,

And the Shiv a grave would come to be,

For the Lost and the Headless God’s Fools,

Across the Sea and through the Shiv,

Clear His Way O’er Deaths Long Dead,

His Arms held up those ‘E kept as His,

And his Northern boots upon shoal would tread,

Fierce and Hot the Southern Sun,

And Close the Fanged Jungle comes,

Th’ Mwangi takes ere all is done,

But He would not so cheaply turn,

When Winged Death comes by Night,

And cold the dark when poison barbs the flesh

His Arms held Death as his Love took Flight,

Those Arms took Durvag’s Bane to his Final Rest,

And paid in full the Lady Grave,

Where she count ‘is coin an’ took his hand,

But He would not sleep but by the Waves,

He waits for Her, restless on Shiv’s strand.”

Aerys would say no more, though many in the caravan were dumbstruck at the impromptu eulogy. Sasha’s usual smirk was absent in its wake, and even Sand bowed his head in reverence. In turn, Jask and Ishirou came to Nadia and offered their condolences. A palpable silence fell across the caravan.

“I cannot replace your man.” The Captain interrupted the heavy silence. “But we have a job to do.”

“Feh.” N’kechi snorted. “Not half a hundred could, I think.”

The words shuddered through the air, as those Nadia traveled with heard the only complimentary thing N’kechi had ever said in their presence. The Captain’s face clouded with anger a moment before she turned back to business.

“We’ve supplies enough for now, with more on the way.” She looked around the ruin. “Do you know the way to Saventh-Yhi?”

Nadia nodded somberly before gesturing at the ziggurat.

“Follow me.”

The Tengu had already made themselves busy by trading with the quartermasters of the caravan. It now seemed the venture was more profitable than ever.

…

In the relative cool of the ziggurat’s second floor, the Captain and the Trailblazers looked on the image of Saventh-Yhi. Outside, insects buzzed around the caravan as a base camp was established in a matter of hours.

“Those… cliffs?” The Captain looked at the illusory image of the valley where Saventh-Yhi hid. “Would be too steep to bring the entire caravan down in less than a week.”

“How fast can we mobilize?” Jask stroked his chin. “Your men look to be settling in early.”

“We’ve been on a hard march most of a month.” The Captain frowned. “A few days shouldn’t be any harm.”

“Unless the Mantis attack…” Sasha sneered through her typical smile.

“Or worse,” Nadia suddenly felt very tired. “They may find the City before we get there.”

“We’re the only ones who know where it is.” Ishirou chuckled.

“No.” Jask poited. “There, in the trees and above the city.”

All eyes turned to where he was pointing.

“Pteranodons… I wouldn’t call that occupation.” Ishirou gruffed.

“No, but something is drawing them there.” Jask shook his head, letting the words settle in the room.

“Food.” The Captain rubbed her temples. “We’re not going into a ruin, then.”

“No.” Sand spoke in the Captain’s presence for the first time. “We’re attacking a city.”

“Calistria’s teats! You speak?!” Her shock was quickly replaced with mirth. “That explains more than the armor…”

“There.” Lana pointed to an edge of the city. “The river runs out into the jungle. We can follow it upstream to Saventh-Yhi.”

“Where…” Nadia and others narrowed their eyes, squinting into the minute details.

“No, I see it.” Sasha’s jaw sagged for only a moment before she laughed. “Our Falcon-Eyed friend is right, there’s a tributary that leads out of the city… you can see it here on the floor map-thing.”

Now eyes turned to a spot on the floor with a serpentine line of some nameless tributary of the Ocota river.

“The Ocota River?” The Captain frowned, referring to her map.

“Just a tributary. Maba can probably lead us right to the headwaters, if you like.” Ruva offered, garnering a glare from the Captain. “Well, he could, lovely Captain… and I guarantee the path we leave behind will be a veritable highway for the Pathfinder expedition… perhaps we should join forces?”

“It would have its benefits.” Jask nodded, wiping sweat from his brow.

“I’ll consider it when they’re on our heels.” The Captain barked. “Until then, they can feed on the scraps we leave behind. The treasure is mine.”

“Ours.” The steely gaze from Nadia brooked no quarrel.

“Ours.” The Captain agreed, though the faint hesitation bespoke a Captain’s discomfort at taking orders instead of giving them.

“What of the other expeditions?” Aerys’ eyes were fixed to the image of Saventh-Yhi. “How far ahead are we?”

“The Mantis are nibbling our bollocks.” N’kechi snarled.

“I think the Colonial Expedition is a week behind.” Jask added. “Perhaps the most efficient thing they’ve ever done.”

“The Pathfinders could only be a day, maybe three at most.” Ruva shrugged. “We’ve stopped to rest plenty-enough for them to catch up.”

“Huh.” Ishirou chuckled. “The Consortium’s got money… they could be in the room with us, with the right magic.”

“They’re not.” Nadia assured.

“Lucky them.” Ishirou smiled, splaying his fingers in mock retreat at Nadia.

“Gods dammit.” The Captain frowned, looking angrily at Saventh-Yhi. “We’ll break at first light. One night’s rest is due.”

As everyone filed out of the viewing room, Sand lingered. Nadia had taken the activation stones to safeguard against spies sneaking ahead of them on the route to Saventh-Yhi. The northern witch heard the dog’s parting words, though she couldn’t tell if any others had.

“I will go, Master…” The dog’s eyes stared at the spot on the floor that had been indicated as Saventh-Yhi. “…but I am afraid.”

As Sand caught up with her, she could tell he was deep in thought. It was mildly amusing to her that so few people saw Sand the way that she did.

“Something on your mind, Sand?”

“I… miss my old life.” And Sand loped ahead without another word, assuming the role of witless war-dog as he left the shadows of the ziggurat.

…

That night, deep in the Jungle, a camp of several dozen humans and a handful of Tengu ate quietly. They all relished their meals, haunted by a eulogy of a man most of them didn’t know. Many had died on the road to Tazion. It was nearly assured more would die before they found their way back to Eleder. The ruins were silent and looming in the black veil of night. Further in the jungle, beyond the crumbling walls of Tazion, they heard a strange song grow.

A wolf howl, long and filled with sorrow, rose from the night hum. The cry rose and fell, like the tides of the sea, gathering strength and fading down to barely above a moan. The jungle’s hungry whisper of insects grew still as the song carried on.

Nadia looked at Caesar, but the fox seemed disinterested in the wolf-cry. She decided to let Sand be.

After several minutes, another mournful voice lifted in answer. Then another.

“Ill omens, jackals howling like that.” Ruva’s traveling companion, Maba, shivered and bent his fingers in a sign to ward-off evil.

“Not jackals.” Nadia’s voice was soft. She knew a song very similar to this, but it did not belong in the Mwangi. “They’re wolves.”

“Wolves?” Ishirou moved closer around the fire, peering into the dark. “Sand’s doing, then? Or do we have more to worry about?”

“Sand?” One of the Captain’s men raised an eyebrow. “That war-dog? You are a superstitious lot.”

“Aren’t we, Sea Dog?” Nadia cocked her head at the man, her eyes wild. The sailor went silent.

The howls grew to many, but the song would draw no closer to Tazion. At long last, as the moon peered down through the canopy and bathed the ruin’s ancient stones in a bone-white glow, the wolf-song faded into silence. The many voices trailed off on one final note, and then sang no more. Heartbeats later, the hum of insects filled the night once more.

“We could do with a bit of sleep, Nadia.” Sand said from behind the North-woman.

“Yes.” Nadia agreed, her eyes devouring visions only she could see in the dancing flames of the dwindling fire. Through the camp moved the sentries, sleepers stirred or scratched. Many of the insects were warded away by scented smoke near the fires, but the boldest few fed on those who kept watch, unable to breach the tents of the camp.

“What song did you sing, Sand?” Nadia pulled herself away from the fire and she walked lazily toward her tent.

“I sang for the dead.” Sand did not seem concerned about being heard by the sentries. Perhaps they would think it a trick of the ruins, or Nadia’s own trickery.

“Durvag and your Master?”

“I had not taken the time to grieve, as people grieve.” Sand dipped his head down and swept through the flap of Nadia’s tent. “It has been difficult.”

“Who were they…?” Nadia ducked into the tent and secured the flap. Already, bugs slapped against the canvas in earnest. “Who answered you? This far south… I know wolf-song when I hear it.”

“I… I do not _know_.” Sand curled onto the ground and was still, his eyes closing.

_You can tell me you’d rather not speak of it._ Nadia smiled, laying back onto her bedroll. “Sleep well, Sand.”

…

Two days north of Tazion and Ruva thought he could still just make out the huddled ziggurat, looking back from the small cleft he’d climbed ahead of the main body of the caravan. They’d been crawling through the jungle at an infuriatingly slow rate.

_It’s a wonder they’ve not all been eaten, by now._ Ruva smirked, shading his eyes from the pounding sunlight and gazing at the hazy reflection in the canopy below. _Have we only crossed a few miles?_

He could see the mountain they’d had to skirt, and the low “pass” they’d traversed to get to where they were now. Tazion couldn’t be more than ten to twelve miles behind them. He knew he couldn’t see it, but it seemed such a short distance… and it had already been two days.

_The Mantis are on our heels._ He nodded grimly. _Or in our midst._

The threat of claim-jumpers was enough that everyone was mostly silent during the trek. Sand seemed unusually quiet, but Ruva attributed that to the caravan. The dog-man obviously didn’t want to be known as smarter than a dog, so he didn’t speak around others. Nadia had been looking at him often, the last two days. Ever since the Howl-Song. Maba was convinced that Sand was some sort of spy of Lamashtu, but the Zenj trail-guide kept quiet much of the time and offered only fleeting complaint to Ruva at the start and end of day.

There had been no evidence of wolves since the Howl-Song. Ruva recognized jackals, and it had been no jackal. Maba was letting his superstitions get the better of him. Ruva knew of little enough of wolves, except what Sasha had told him that night. She’d looked almost giddy describing the feral might of the northern breeds and how they sought their prey.

“Like Sand, there, but more lean… thicker fur, sometimes.” Sasha’s emerald eyes glittered in the night. “And narrower snouts, but not much, not like a jackal. And the tail is almost the same. I’ve never gotten a close-up look at Sand’s mouth, but wolves have black gums. I wouldn’t be the least bit surprised if he’s part wolf… but it’s not obvious. Maybe his grand-sire or great grand-sire… Yeah, I bet he’s part wolf.”

“Wolves are animals.” Lana had cut in, her time as sentry over for the night. “Dogs are animals, jackals are animals… Sand… is something else.”

“Awakened, Nadia called it.” Sasha had nodded eagerly. “Like a… Like a man in a dog’s body.”

The thought had made Ruva cringe, inwardly. How could such a man hold a spear, properly? He’d seen Sand fight, often enough… the dog’s mind was alien to him, though.

_It’s his way._ Ruva relented, at last. _He lives his way as I live mine… in that, he is perhaps more natural than he seems at first._

…

_The shoreline is alive with willow-wisps and the lanterns of ghosts beneath the surf. The sands of the Shiv are red-black from the blood sown through its shores over the centuries. Another ship has crashed, another tomb of uncounted souls shattered on the rocks as the treacherous currents pulled them to a watery grave. The Eurypterids are feasting on the carrion, even now. Not surprising, there’s little flotsam on the beach. The sand is sticky from the blood of innumerable lives lost to the small island. The specters don’t just lurk in the waves. The living have all fled Smuggler’s Shiv, and now the dead hold dominion. The trails are patrolled but cannibal spirits, eager to resume their foul rituals and feasts in a tireless reflection of the madness they pursued in life. Beneath the waves of the cove, in the ruins that became Yarzoth’s burial chamber, the headless body has twitched to life, lifting its head to the stump of its neck and gazing at you with burning, hateful eyes…_

_The beacon of the lighthouse is ablaze, the mirrors casting their light across the water for all to see. Another ship is approaching, already lost to the bloodthirsty shores of the island even as the crew fights their doom. Soon, the ghosts and eurypterids will feed…_

_The dryad stands by her tree, her eyes looking out over the water. The dead dare not come close… but the living stand no chance of reaching her._

_In the dimly lit rooms of the lighthouse, one room glows blue-white as the apparition paces like a caged animal. The former chieftain’s bedchamber, now the prison of a ghost, a soul of a north-man Nadia knew well._

_He turns, sharply contrasted against the dream-like haze with painful clarity, eyes afire in undeath._

_“Nadia.”_

…

Nadia startles awake, only to find herself swept up in the arms of Ruva, who had only just managed to stop her from toppling headlong into a ravine.

“Nadia, are you alright?” Ruva’s concern is genuine, but the witch feels a fleeting twinge of anger at been handled against her will before realizing where she is.

“What’s happened?” She demands, straightening.

“You fainted.” Ruva waves Jask over. “Are you ill?”

“No… I…” Nadia comes to the realization that she can’t recall how she came to be at this precipice. Everything after the previous evening is lost to her vision. _The vision._

“What did you see?” Jask’s face is creased with worry. “Was it Saventh-Yhi?”

“No… it’s…” Nadia takes a deep breath to focus her thoughts. “Just fatigue, that’s all. We’ve been pushing ourselves for months, it seems.”

The look on Jask’s face is almost a slap to her, but she can see he will let her have the deception. Jask tells her to drink plenty of water and stay close to him if her condition worsens.

…

Five days out of Tazion, and Lana finds the cleft leading into what must be the valley of Saventh-Yhi. The trails are ancient and thickly overgrown. The waterfall spouting from the cliff face is near sixty feet high, the spray making much of the trail slick stone or muddy bog where the foliage hasn’t choked passage entirely.

…

“There’s a trail _where_?” The Captain mops her brow with a heavily soiled kerchief before pulling her tangled hair back from her damp forehead.

“There.” Lana leans in, lining her arm with the Captain’s eyes. “Just beside the falls. They come all the way back to just over there, behind that knee in the river.”

“Gods, that’ll take days to clear.” One of the men complained.

“Then I expect you to make it double-quick and cease your whining, ye gutless sot!” And the Captain’s fist found the hollow of the man’s cheek, sending her subordinate sprawling into a tangle of nettle-vines. None moved to pull him from the tangle of thick briar.

“We’ll get to work straight away.” The Captain sighed, rubbing her knuckles pensively. “I’ll have the men set camp and get to clearing the way for our provisions.”

“And we’ll go on ahead and make sure we’re on the right tributary.” Nadia nodded.  
  


“No question. This is the place.” Lana took a few paces toward the waterfall. “I can just make out the old trail. We shouldn’t have too much trouble moving ahead.”

“Alright.” Ruva hefted his glaive. “Let’s climb.”

“You heard the man, dog.” Maba grumbled. “Start climbing or grow wings.”


End file.
